Fall Of Colombia
by kakikidawn.housesflower
Summary: This is a crossover between James Bond & the film Colombiana (it wasn't on the list). Cataleya's just a girl when her parent's are murdered in front of her eyes. After coming to America from Bogotá, Colombia to live with her uncle. She becomes an assassin, now as an adult she's out for revenge. And there is only one man who can help her. Bond, James Bond. It's Bond so there's smut.
1. The Contract

a/n: This is my first crossover, so I hope you enjoy it. It's also my first attack of a James Bond fic. Being the huge fan of the Bond movies, that I am and 007 being the incredibly huge franchise that it is. I was a bit afraid of tackling this. If you haven't seen _Colombiana _than I suggest you watch or at least read up on it before reading this story. If you've never seen a James Bond flick, than honestly there's no hope for you :). When writing this, the Bond I have in mind is the newest one, Daniel Craig. I kind of thought of this idea while watching _Quantum Of Solace._ I'm thinking of Bond's and Cataleya's relationship to be kind of Bond/Camille relationship in QOS. If you haven't seen that either, than... ****SPOILERS AHEAD****. There's a few people that I put in, that are actual people, I do it to make my story more real **NOT** to put them down in any way. Well, that is enough chit-chat, enjoy! And remember, Comment's = love!

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There was a party tonight, everyone who is anyone will be there. He put the silver cuff links onto the sleeves of his grey Armani suit, he pushed up his dark grey tie to his neck. Grabbing his keys and the red invitation that was on the stand near the hotel suite door. He got into his white DB5 Aston Martin, driving down the street's of Agra, India. Racing down the winding street's at a hundred mph, he reached the party within minute's. He got out, giving the valet his keys, getting a ticket in return. He handed the red sheet of decorated paper to one of the men at the front door.

He walked in heading to the bar. He ordered a martini, shaken till chilled. He turned around, sipping at the rim of the glass, elbow set against the top of the bar. He spotted the President of Peru, Ollanta Humala talking to the Prime Minister of Australia, Julia Gillard. He pushed the radio ear piece deeper into his canal, he muttered into his glass telling Q that he could hear him clearly. He saw a woman in a long silk blue dress, a slit on the left side going up her long leg to her hip. Her wavy black hair cascaded over her shoulder's, her dark olive skin shinned in the light. He eyed her bare back, as he walked past her.

He felt a hand land on his shoulder, he spun around. It was Evo Morales, the President of Bolivia. "Señor Bond right?"

He nodded and extended his hand. "Hello, Mr. President."

He shook his hand then let go. "British Secret Service, correct?"

He nodded, sipping at the rim of the martini glass. "How'd you know?"

"Bolivia has connections."

Both men laugh.

"So, who here has gained the interest of the secret service?"

Before Bond could answer with a lie or story_ or_ both, he felt and hand on his left arm, around his elbow. He looked, to see the woman from before. '_She's attractive, beyond gorgeous._' He thought.

She looked at the President. "Disculpe señor Presidente, pero tengo que hablar con el señor Bond solo por un momento. ¿Está bien?."

"Si." the President smiled, before they walked away.

They found a corner alone. "So, what do you have to speak to me alone about?"

"You speak Spanish?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Among other's." He smiled, finishing off his glass.

"I heard your the man to talk to."

"About what exactly?" Unbuttoning the one button he had buttoned, he sat down on a bar stool against the end of the bar near the wall, he gave her a smile.

'_Damn he's sexy_' She thought. She shook her head. "I'm looking for someone. I want revenge, I hear you know all about that." She sat in the stool in front of him, her leg showing through the slit in the dress.

He looked from her black stilettos to her thigh. "I may. What do you want me to do?" He looked at the bartender, and pointed his finger at his empty glass. "Do you want one?"

She stared at him for a second than nodded.

"Make that two." He said to the bartender.

"I want to find someone."

"His name is Don Luis Sandoval, he's a big drug lord back in Colombia." She handed him a printed piece of paper with a picture from her clutch.

"You know the dead don't care about revenge."

"I'm not dead."

He looked at her, and handed the paper back.

"You don't need to keep it?"

"No, I know what he looks like." He picked up the glass that the bartender just refilled, and took a sip. "So, who do you want revenge for?"

"My parent's." She took a drink from her drink. "He murdered them."

Bond eyed her.

"In front of me."

He nodded. "After I find him, what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Just be discrete, he's smart, he has people everywhere. Don't leave a trail, he'll know your following him. Once you find him, I'll take it from there."

He downed his martini and nodded. "Okay." He stood up and re-buttoned his jacket. He started to walk off.

She grabbed his arm. "How do I get a hold of you?"

"You don't. I'll contact you... I don't think I caught your name."

She let go of his arm. "Cataleya."

"Like the flower?"

She nodded.

"Beautiful." He paused. "It suits you."

She blushed, he smiled down at her before walking away, to the task at hand. She watched him go into another room.

**To Be Continued...**

Sorry so short.


	2. Puerto Rico

_...ring...ring...ring..._

Bond picked up his cell, the letter **M **covering the large touch screen. He sat up in the large bed, the red satin sheet dropped to his lap. He rubbed his eye, before pushing the green button. "Bond." He answered.

"Bond, I need you to come in." M's voice came through the phone.

He looked at the round alarm clock on the hotel's night stand. "It's six am, what's so bloody important at six in the morning?" He noticed a note written on the hotel bar napkin. _"Had fun, thanks." _He smiled, and tossed it back down on the metal night stand.

"We have a lead on Keopke. He's in San Juan, Puerto Rico."

"Could he make it more obvious?"

"He could." M answers.

"I'll be on the next flight."

"I know." With that, M hung up.

He groaned, tossing the cell near his feet. He got up, the sheet dropping back onto the king sized bed, exposing his naked body. He made his way through the large suite to the bathroom. Stepping into the wide walk-in shower. Turning on the hot water, he stepped under the big sun flower shaped shower head, letting the water cascade of his muscular frame. The steam fogged up the glass walls of the shower. Bond ran his hand through his trimmed dirty blond hair, he grabbed the bottle of body wash, rubbing it over his hard chest, ab's, and toned leg's.

After washing his hair, he stepped out of the shower, a fog of steam escaped with him. Grabbing a maroon coloured towel off the rack, running the plush over his face and hair, before wrapping it over his waist. It began to hang loosely around his waist, as he walked to the sink, and began to shave. He observed himself in the mirror once finished, he walked into the bedroom, hearing his cell chim. He picked it up, it was the name and address of the hotel, where Marco Keopke was having his poker game. He set the cell back down on the satin bed cover's and got dressed.

Before getting off the private jet, he checked his PPK before putting the gun in his waistband behind his back. Arriving at the Conrand San Juan Condado Plaza, on the beach. He changed into black v-neck short sleeve t-shirt, blue jean's, and white sneaker's. Putting the PPK back in the back waistband's of his jean's, positioning the t-shirt back over the top of his jean's. He put on a pair of Tom Ford Marko sunglasses, he wanted to fit the tourist look. It was now high noon, the hot sun beamed on him, as he stepped out of the doors of the Conrand.

He walked along the plaza pool, eyeing beautiful tanned woman in tiny bikini's, sprawled out on chair's; sunbathing. He caught a few glances before he sat down on a stool at the outdoor pool.

"Vodka martini." He told the man behind the bar counter.

"How would you like it?" The older bartender asked.

"Shaken not stirred, three olives." He answered, before opening the text he got from M, with Keopke's picture. After glancing at it, he put the phone back into his pocket.

He took the martini glass from the bartender's hand, he took a sip from the round rim, before looking around the pool side. He spotted Marco, sitting on a beach chair wearing white loose pant's and sandal's. A younger woman rubbing oil on his bare back. He lazily sipped at the drink, looking past the tall palm trees to the wide ocean. Marco Keopke, came over, sitting next to Bond.

"Negroni." The short tan man told the bartender.

Bond let out a quiet laugh into his glass. He alway's thought of the Negroni, as a feminine drink.

"Marco Keopke." He held out a hand, introducing himself.

Bond put down the martini glass, and shook Marco's left hand. "Bond, James Bond."

"What is British Secret Service doing in Puerto Rico?" Keopke asked, Bond was silent for a second, Keopke continued. "Didn't think I knew who you were?"

"Just didn't think I was of any importance to you." He smiled, before taking another drink from the martini glass, polishing off the liquor. "Vacation." Bond answered. "It's quite beautiful here." He looked to the clear sparkling ocean than toward's the sunbathing girl's.

Keopke pointed his attention to where Bond's eyes were locked. "Yes, quite." He took a drink of his cocktail. "I'm having a game tonight in the down stair's lobby. I heard you were a hell of a poker player, I also heard you cleaned some man out a few year's ago at the Casino Royal."

"You hear alot of thing's." Bond tapped his finger's against the wood counter top, silently ordering another martini, the bartender refilled the empty glass.

Marco shrugged. "I get around. So you in?" He eyed Bond.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." Bond answered.

"Good." Marco put down a bill, paying for his and Bond's two martini's. "See you tonight." He got up, and walked back to the tall redhead who was waiting for him.

For the poker game, he changed into a one-button shawl collar tuxedo; black, with no tie. He bought fifty grand worth of chip's, sitting down in one of the golden coloured chairs. He eyed the five men around him, one of those men being Marco Keopke.

"Shall we begin?" Bond asked, with a smile.

The dealer dealt the card's.

**To Be Continued...**

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_Sorry, that it's so short. I'm just tired because of school and the passing holiday's. I'm focusing on the poker game in the next chapter. And without giving away any spoiler's, there will be some action happening... **I promise! **_


	3. The Chase Is On

_This gets a little gory, but not really. Just wanted to warn those who are reading this. Hope you enjoy! Comment's are love. _

oOoOoOoOo

By the fourth game only three men where in the game. The pot held over thirteen million. The first two card games Marco Keopke won, the third was won by a Egyptian drug smuggler by the name of Lucio Black. The fourth was happening now. Bond stared intently at Keopke, he had a tell and Bond knew it.

"Show em'." The card dealer announced.

Mr. Black went first. He flipped over his card's.

"Straight. King's over ten's." The dealer said.

Bond kept his eyes on Marco, as Marco flipped his card's with a wide grin.

"Full House, A's and Queen's." The man announced. "Your turn señor Bond."

Bond flipped his over his two card's, then he sat back, and watched the dealer turn the card's over. Inspecting Keopke's facial expression.

"Straight Flush. Señor Bond win's."

"Blind luck." Bond grinned at Keopke.

Mr. Black stood up, re-buttoning his jacket. "If you'd excuse me gentleman, but I'm cleaned out." He smiled, excusing himself.

Both men watched him exit the maroon coloured themed room.

"I guess it's just you and me James." Marco smiled.

The dealer shuffled the card's and dealt. Bond watched the dealer deal the card's. There it was, the tell. Marco Keopke had scratched his arm, a subtle thing, but obvious.

"Bond, do you have blind luck often?"

Bond just stared at him without saying a word.

"I'm all in." Keopke pushed all his chip's in the middle of the poker table.

Bond looked at him momentarily.

"Your call." The dealer told him.

"All in." He pushed his chips in.

Forty one million in the pot.

"I see that your luck is now mine." Marco Keopke set down his card's.

"Straight Flush." The dealer said, with a grin.

Bond put the card's down.

"Straight."

"Señor Keopke wins."

Bond nodded at him, and Keopke pulled the chips in towards himself; grinning devilishly.

"Good game."

"Up for another round?"

"I would, but you cleaned me out." Bond faked a smile.

Marco laughed. "So, the game's run short." He shrugged. "Shame." He excused the dealer, with a nod. He turned his attention back to Bond, fondling for something under the table.

Bond quickly pulled out his gun, and pointed it at him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Now both hands where I can see them."

Keopke slowly lifted up his hands. Quickly he tossed the chips in the air, and ran. Bond shot, missing. Bond chased after Keopke, running up stairs. Bond dodge a bullet.

"Move. Move!" Bond yelled, pushing in between a couple holding hands in the main lobby, another shot fired.

He got him in the arm, still running. Bond stopped, taking a alleyway. He saw him cross the street another shot, missed. Keopke turned his body half around and shot at Bond, the bullet passed by Bond's ear making it right. Bond ran across the street, rolling over the hood of a car. Honking horns and the still ringing of his ears, but Bond in a fog, but he still ran. Holding the gun in hand. Keopke ran down the street, through moving car's. Sounds of screeching wheel's and curse words, rang through the street.

Bond stopped, seeing Keopke run into an apartment building. He ran across the street, and followed him in. Putting his back against the wall, he held the gun with both hands, holding it close. He heard footsteps creaking the old wood staircase. He ran up them, another shot from Keopke. Bond got grazed against the neck. He put his hand against his wound, blood seeping through his fingers. He quickly tore off a piece from his shirt and tied it around his neck. He heard the sound of a heavy door closing. The roof. He ran up the stairs. He opened the metal roof door. There stood Keopke, grinning.

"Look's like I got you."

Bond had the gun pointed at him. "Yeah, you too." He nodded to his arm.

"Oh, this. It'll heal." He began to hold up his gat with the other arm.

Bond shot it out of his hand, shooting off his thumb.

"Fuck!" Keopke screamed, grabbing his hand. He tried going for his gun.

"Do it, and the next one's in your skull." Bond warned.

He walked to him, kicking the gun out of reach, grabbing Marco's hands and pulling them behind his back. He walked a few feet grabbing the gun, putting it next to his gun, in his pant waist. "Let's go."  
He had his hands tightly gripped around Keopke's wrist's. Keopke headbutted Bond in the mouth, making his lip bleed. Bond grabbed a fistful of hair with his other right hand hand. In a warehouse on the other side of town, Bond tied Keopke to a chair, he took off his shoes and socks, putting Marco's bare feet in a tub of water.

Bond wiped the blood from the right corner of his mouth, with the outside knuckle of his right index finger. Smiling at Keopke. He went into another room, cleaned and taped his neck wound. He came back in with another chair, and wires. Bond turned the back of the chair to Marco, before straddling it.

"You're going to tell me what I know or I'm going to put you through more pain than one man could bare. Those wounds..." Bond pointed at his arm and hand. "Are going to seem like cat scratches." He scooted the chair closer.

"Shocking me, really? A bit old school, don't you think?" Keopke smirked.

"That's going to be the nicest thing I do to you." James hissed. His cell rang. **M** was once again, was written over the screen. He got up and went into the next room. "Ma'am?" He answered.

"Bond, there's havoc all over the news about a chaotic chase through San Juan. Tell me that wasn't you?"

"I got Marco Keopke."

'_Of course, it was him_.' M thought. "Is he still alive?"

"For now." Bond heard noise from the other room, he walked in to see Keopke trying to escape from his binding. He leaned against the door frame. "Isn't that cute, he's trying to escape."

Marco glared at him, and stopped resisting.

M's voice came back through the receiver. "Don't do anything till I get there."

"I'll try my best." He hung up.

She stared at her office phone. "Yes, we all know what that means."

Bond walked slowly to Keopke, like a hunter walking to his wounded prey.

"Was that mommy dearest?" Marco showed off his bright smile.

"Where are you getting the drugs?" He ignored his question.

"Do you really think I'll give it up for a few seconds."

Bond stripped Marco to his boxers, and took a bucket of ice cold water and poured it over Keopke's body, and hooked up the wires. After a few seconds of shocking Keopke, Bond turned off the switch.

"Feel like talking?"

"Fuck you!" Marco screamed.

"Okay." He hooked up another wire to his groin and turned the switch back on.

Marco screamed, tears quickly formed in his eyes.

Bond yelled over his screams. "Are you going to tell me what I want to know or do you want more?"

"Bring it." Keopke spat in his face.

Bond angrily wiped it off. '_What a bloody disgusting act_.' He thought. "You really want to go through all this for one question? Because I have a lot more I'm going to ask, and _you are_ going to answer them."

"I'm still waiting for the pain to start."

"Okay." Bond put a wet rag in Keopke's mouth, duck taped over it, and shocked him again. Keeping it on, as he layed tools out on a table for Marco to see.

He had knives, pliers, rope, a thin towel, other tools, and a hard rock on a rope; he didn't want to mention where he got that idea. He turned off the switch again, and took out the wet rag.

"Ready to talk?"

"His name is Ricardo." He was taking short, deep breaths. "Ricardo Santiago. I get a call to tell me where to pick up the shipment." Another deep breath. "Mostly by boat. And then I sell it, I get a prophet."

"Where's he from?"

"I don't know. I know nothing, but his name." He spat spit on the cement floor, red. Blood.

"When's the next shipment coming in?" Bond got closer to him.

"I don't know."

Bond walked to the table, grabbing the towel.

"I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed in repeat.

Bond filled up another bucket of water, pulling the chair behind Marco.

"I'm telling the truth."

"I'm sure you are mate." He draped the towel over his face, and held it tight from behind him, he slowly dumbed the water over Keopke's face.

Marco shook his body, desperate to breath. Gasping at the soaked cloth. He removed the cloth.

"The next shipment?" Bond repeated, hissing through his teeth.

"I don't know shit gilipollas."

"Dime lo que sabes o te cortaré la polla, pero no antes de que te tortura."

Keopke's eyes got large, with fright. "Te dije que el hombre no sé nada."

"Really? Like you didn't know my last question." He put the cloth back on, and poured more chilly water over his face.'

He said nothing. House cut off his other index finger with the plier's. Scream's filled the basement of the warehouse, as Keopke bled. He punished him with the rope. He shocked him again, and then M should up.

"Bond!" She yelled from the doorway. "What in God's earth are you doing?"

"Making him talk."

She nodded at her agent to take over for Bond, and then nodded for Bond to follow her.

"What have you learned?" M asked.

"His bosses name is Ricardo Santiago. He apparently doesn't know where he is. But there's a shipment coming in tonight. Cocaine, a lot of it. I was about to find out where when you came in." Bond said, rather upset.

"You're dismissed for now."

"Ma'am."

"I said dismissed. Take a vacation, work on whatever it is you want too."

Bond suddenly remembered his other case.

She finished. "You did good Bond." She looked at his neck, keeping her hands in her dark brown pea coat pocket's. "Will you be alright?"

"Just a graze."

"Take a vacation." M suggested.

"I'm thinking Colombia."

She nodded, and then nodded for him to leave. "If I need you..."

"You'll call." He finished her sentence.

"Yes well, go on."

He nodded, and left. On to a new job.

**To Be Continued...**

oOoOo

_The next chapter will get back to main theme of this story._


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